Destiny Awaits
by belle-fille1
Summary: When Haruhi finds out that she isn't who she thinks she is, everything suddenly just got a little complicated.


_I've always detested the Cinderella-type stories. You know what I'm talking about. Stories that tell the tale of a beautiful but poor girl treated unjustly by her family. Tales that always seem to end with the heroine marrying a prince who solves all of her problems with his wealth and power. _

_My dislike stemmed not from the false illusions the stories brought, but, rather, how the heroine always relied on the Prince in order to achieve justice and have eternal happiness. In the end, the moral of the story wasn't one of Cinderella's courage to defy her family to attend the ball. Nor was it one that emphasized her independence and sufficiency in running an entire household by herself. Oh no. Instead, these stories stressed Cinderella's dependency and need for a man to run her life. Her beauty and dutifulness as a servant were prerequisite qualities for the powerful and wealthy husband. Cinderella's happiness was only guaranteed when she married. _

_But who knows, perhaps I am just thinking about it too much. The fact that my entire childhood was a mockery of happy endings and due justice served has much to do with it. _

_My name is Haruhi Fujioka, and this is my story. _

I first saw her beside my father several days after my mother's death. She stood demurely by his side in a traditional kimono cut in a way that emphasized her slenderness. I couldn't tell where the sleeves of her kimono ended and where her clasped hands began because of the paleness of her skin. It was only until my gaze drifted upwards that I saw the first flash of color on her. Threads of blushing pink were sewn on the white silk, starting as a cluster of buds at the side of her hip and ascended into a scattering of cherry blossoms around her neck. Her lips were an unnatural red, like the color of the hibiscus flowers that grew in the sweaty months of June and July. Dark eyes gazed steadily at me under sooty eyelashes, and I stared transfixed at her until a rough cough pierced the silence.

I tore my eyes away from her to meet the steady look of my father. He waved impatiently at me, "Don't just stand there, come in and sit," he said scowling, bushy brows furrowed.

Bowing my head, I kneeled on the hard wood floor in front of them, leveling my gaze at the hem of his black robe.

"As you know," he began gruffly, "The Fujioka Company is an important and highly visible institution to Japan's economy. We are one of the few manufacturing companies that was given permission by the Prime Minister himself to deal directly with other foreign governments."

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. How could I not know? The importance of my family and our corporation was drilled into me since the day of my birth. My grandfather started the company through internal connections with several Ministers of State, and it rapidly expanded to become one of the largest and most powerful companies in the country. My family ran the corporation with a heavy hand, order and one's place was held in the highest regard. Much of what we manufactured and who we dealt with were kept top secret for fear of people imitating our technology. The company's income from the "secret" dealings between clientele were unknown but despite that, the amount of sales from the public goods alone kept us afloat among the wealthiest companies in Japan. Our public goods ranged from electronics to plastic food containers to power tools. Our logo, a circle with an F in the middle, was an ubiquitous sign nationally and internationally.

"…and therefore it is considered proper for me to take another wife."

My body jerked before I could stop myself.

"Excuse me?" I said blankly, gaping at him. I scrutinized his face for a sign of falsity but he was serious.

From the corner of my eye, the woman shifted so slightly that I almost missed it. It appeared that I wasn't the only one who had a problem with this sudden announcement.

He rested a hand on the woman's shoulder. "This, Haruhi, will be your new mother. Megumi Fujioka."

I stared incredulously at the woman--no, step-mother. "But I-_mother_ just died," I said, placing a hand on the black fabric tied to my arm in honor of her. "She was just placed in the ground, wouldn't this act cause sh--"

"You have need to worry about this," father said smoothly. "All you need to know is that this will be your new mother and you will give her the respect due to her as the wife of the heir to the Fujioka Company."

I stiffened. I knew that he was not asking but ordering me to comply and act the part of dutiful daughter to the President of Fujioka Company. Act not as a daughter whose mother just died but act as the sole heir apparent to the man who was President. Anger surged through me, and I flushed, stomach constricting. My hands tightened on my skirt.

Casting my eyes down at the grooves on the wooden floor, I said in a low voice. "I know you think something was _wrong _with mother for her sickness. But you insult her and her family by marrying so soon."

There was a rustling of cloth, and the woman murmured, "_Anata, _perhaps this isn't the time--"

"No," my father cut firmly. "No child of mine will go against my orders."

"Haruhi," he addressed to me, "I appreciate your concern but I trust that you will respect my wishes." His tone brooked no argument.

A dozen insults rose to my lips and I bit my tongue hard.

I slowly stood, meeting him squarely in the face. I wore the mask of the Fujioka heir, a mask that I could don on and off in less than a blink of an eye. My father looked back at me with the expectation of my acceptance.

"_Hai_." I bowed slowly to him. As I inclined my head to the woman, I saw a glint in her eyes but of what I could not read. I turned to bow once more to my father and at that moment, I wished my father dead. I could forgive him for never taking a part of my life except to make sure I was holding the proper image befitting as his daughter, but I could not, and would not accept the insult given to my mother. May you die the death of a hundred cuts, may disease find you and prosperity ruin you, may you….may you…I wanted to shriek, stamp my feet, grab my _kaiken _from the elastic band of my skirt to--

Something in my face must have shown my intentions for my father's eyes narrowed and his stance shifted as if readying for an attack.

"Yes?" He drawled.

I turned abruptly.

"Nothing."

At that age of fourteen, I thought that I could never accept Megumi but surprisingly I found myself warming up to her. It helped that she knew that no one could ever replace my mother but at least she could make my life easier from the expectations from my father. Reluctantly, I found myself slowly liking her and it took me a year when I finally called her _okasan_.

I was sprawled on the floor of one of Fujioka's many conference rooms, practicing traditional Chinese characters on a sheet of paper. Megumi sat in a chair next to me, reading a _manga_ about a young girl. She hummed as she twirled her foot, and then sighed expansively.

"What?" I flicked a look at her.

"Oh, I don't know. This is so romantic." She gestured toward the small pink novel in her hand.

I shot her a bemused smile. "Romantic? You married my father and you believe in that?"

Megumi grinned wryly, "Ah yes, well, that is true. But.." She hesitated. "I suspect you probably have guessed that I married him not for love."

I rolled onto my back, spreading my arms and legs out wide. "Well," I said slowly, squinting at the ceiling tiles above, "It was probably for political reasons. I don't really care. You're…you're okay with me, I guess." I wasn't sure how to answer. I knew that she came from a wealthy textile family and she probably married for political and economical reasons but other than that, I didn't really want to know.

"My father is a different matter," I added lightly.

I could feel the weight of Megumi's gaze on me. She got off the chair and laid down, matching my position. "You know," she murmured, "I know you are bitter because of what he did and the way he treats you but…despite that, he isn't evil."

I scoffed. "Megumi, are you seriously saying that to _me_, his daughter?"

She rolled onto her side and brushed a strand of hair from my forehand. She had an inscrutable look on her face. "Haruhi, what if I were to tell you no, he isn't an evil person. That there are far worse men than him?"

I started to laugh but when I saw her expression, I stopped. There was an intensity to her face, and a seriousness that I hadn't seen on her face before.

"Megumi…no offense, but he married you four days after my mother died. The entire time my mother was sick, he thought she must have angered the spirits." My voice started to rise. "He _blamed_ my mother for her sickness." Megumi opened her mouth to speak.

I sat up, glaring at her. "It's his fault she died!" I shouted.

She pushed herself up, sadness etched on her face. "Did he really blame your mother?" she asked softly.

Tears pricked my eyes, and my chest hitched. My mouth tightened, "No," I replied hoarsely. "But he might as well did by marrying you so soon. He had no right to do so."

Megumi pursed her lips, eyes flicking to the side. " I agree with you that he is treating you not as his daughter but as his heir. I agree that it hurt you when he married me so soon, and you hold grudge against me for that as well but--"

"I don't…I don't hold you accountable. You probably had to because it was my father asking or something like that," I muttered, pressing a hand to my temple, a raging headache was starting. It always happened whenever I get emotional and recently it was occurring more often.

She laid a gentle hand on my arm. "Listen to me Haruhi. Your father loves you. He doesn't know how to treat you like his daughter because of reasons out of his own control. Believe me, he didn't want to marry me so soon," she laughed. "Hell, he didn't even want to marry me. Someday…no, soon you will see things from his angle. And then you'll understand."

There was a tremor in her voice, and that same urgent look etched on her face.

I looked down at her hand on my arm. Slowly I placed my other hand on hers.

"What are you afraid of?" I whispered. Megumi blinked.

"Ah," her voice caught. She gave me a wistful smile. "I'm afraid for you. I want you to have a life that you enjoy before the responsibilities of adulthood reaches you. Before…" There was a look of regret and pain on her face as if she was thinking of her own childhood.

At that moment, we connected. Her as a beautiful young wife to one of the wealthiest men in Japan, wed in a politically arranged marriage. And I as a young heiress to be, destined to be politically married, and not yet an adult.

I bit my lip, ashamed all of a sudden. "Megumi, I think I started on the wrong footing with you. I think…" I took a deep breathe and plunged on. "I think that perhaps I am judging him to soon."

We both knew I was lying straight through my teeth.

"And I'm sorry for bringing up your father", she said flippantly, nudging me with her elbow.

"It's alright," I hesitated, "_Okasan,_" I said shyly.

Her breath caught, and her dark eyes filled with tears as she hugged me tightly.

"Thank you," she said, her voice muffling into my blouse.

No, thank you, I thought. I might have lost a mother. I might still hate my father. But at least I could start trusting someone who most likely had the same type of childhood I had and who dealt with the same pressures as I did.

However, fate somehow always seems to have a different plan. It was only until a year later when I realized what she truly meant that day when I first called her _okasan_.

It was cold the day they came. I awoke to screams and gunshots. The air was metallic with the smell of blood and gunpowder. The door to my room banged open, and Megumi stood there with a wild look on her face, crimson splattered all over of her clothing. She held a bloodied katana in her right arm, and her left arm hung unnaturally from her shoulder.

"What's going on?" I screamed. As I spoke, a soft rumble started and all of a sudden, a loud boom struck the house.

The walls shook, and I could hear more shrieks as something large tumbled down. Crackling sounds of a fire could be overheard the whizzing of bullets and shouts of men. A whiff of winter night filled the air and a white light flashed. I staggered for a moment, there was _power_ in that light, and I could feel pressure coming from all over the place. Pain erupted into my chest, and I faintly heard Megumi cry out in agony.

Stop, stop, please stop, I screamed in my mind as the pain spread in to my neck and head. With a loud snap, the pain stopped. I slumped onto the floor, panting.

There was complete silence. The cries of the people outside my room, the security men, and those assigned to protect our family--I could hear no sounds from them.

"Oh God, they're dead," Megumi whispered as she struggled to get to her feet, eyes glazed.

I stood up shakily beside my bed, "Megumi…what's going on?"

She stared at me, and then suddenly a look of determination crossed her face. She crouched next to me, dropped the sword and pressed a piece of parchment in my hand. I could see her lips moving but I couldn't register what else she was saying. I was trembling so hard that I couldn't register the fact that she was shaking me.

Suddenly she slapped me across the face with her good arm. My eyes re-focused on hers.

"Haruhi, listen to me," she pleaded. "I don't have enough time to explain to you except that no matter what you hear or say, know that you father did love you and I did as well. Everything you need to know is in that document. I need you to go through the secret passageway toward the lake by the edge of the Korus garden. A horse equipped with clothing and supplies is waiting for you there."

"What are you-what are you talking about, Megumi--"

She pushed me toward my closet and pressed a small button underneath the sitting table. The stones next to my bed opened to reveal a small opening about four feet high.

"Go!"

I stumbled into the dark entrance, my feet slapping against the damp stones.

"Megumi, wait!"

She gave me the same wistful smile that she had on her face a year ago. "I love you."

"No, Megumi, what's going on--" My voice was cut off as the stones sealed back together.

I was left in the darkness. Desperately I pressed my ear to the stone, hoping to hear anything from her.

I could hear a male's voice in the room. His voice was light and melodious, it slid in the air like molten honey but there was something desperately wrong about him. There was an undercurrent of darkness, a tinge of death and evil that surrounded him.

"Megumi," the voice drawled. "So there you are."

There was a female scream of pain and a thud as if someone had fallen to the floor.

"Ah, I thought you had more power than that?" The man said lazily.

There was another moan. The man's voice hardened. "I could just end it quickly for you, but how about some, shall we say, enticement for your cooperation?"

The air once again grew heavy and a searing white light flashed. Cracking sounds. A gurgling scream. Then a surge of power, a second one of violet and blue, burst. I didn't know how I could see these _things_, these _powers_, but I could see them, and I _knew_ that the second power came from Megumi. And that Megumi was dead.

The air pulsed and the stench of rotten carcasses whispered into the air. I turned and fled down the corridor in the pitch darkness, my feet slapping against the ground. My cotton white gown flapped around my knees, and my eyes grew hot and itchy.

God! Megumi!

I don't remember how long I ran in the darkness but I recall staring down at my bloodied feet as I burst outside the passageway.

My hair was sticky against my back, and plastered across my face as I bent down and gulped in the air. Turning I could see the remnants of the Fujioka mansion in a distance, a bright blaze of red and orange. Flames crackled to the roof, and part of the colonial pilasters were reduced to rubble. I could see faint outlines of bodies hanging from the side of what appeared to be a bomb strike.

A horse whined and I whirled around. A horse pawed nervously at the ground, eyes rolling.

It was only after several hours on horseback before I remembered the parchment that I still clung in my right hand. As the horse slowed down to a canter, I unfurled the paper with shaking hands. On it, in black ink scrawled a message.

Megumi-

Ware the man in white. The colors must be found: yellow, black, reds, purple, and gold. Protect her at all costs. He comes! Trust no one.

At the bottom there were names scribbled, some were crossed out, some weren't. A total of five names were circled. A sentence in red ink was written hastily at the very end of the parchment.

The colors will come from the clans of Suou, Ootori, Hitachiin, Haninozuka, and Morinozuka…They have betrayed us.

So this is my first attempt at writing fan fiction after a hiatus of…four years. Comments and constructive criticism welcome.

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